Crunchy Lemon Muffins
by Spirit of the Autumn
Summary: Sirius is hungry, so he and Remus gang up on James in order to score some muffins. Peter-bashings galore!


A/N: Hey! I'm back! *dodges rotten tomatoes* And I'm sure you're glad to hear from me. Anyway, this lil one-shot has absolutely nothing to do with anything. I'm just trying to figure out young Remus.

This is in their seventh year. It also has a lot of blatant Peter-bashing. A _lot_. So continue onward, my good reader...

Hmmm. If you don't know, Chef Mate is cooking oil in a can, and you press the button and the oil comes out all nice and evenly. Although Mum said I'm not supposed to use it for muffins. It's supposed to be for frying things or something? Whatever.

Disclaimer: Ah, my little friend the Disclaimer. How do you do? All well? Good. I own nothing, not even this computer. I don't even own the muffin recipe. It belongs to Alison Holst. Chef Mate belongs to S.C. Johnson & Son Inc. Don't ask me how I know that, I just do. :D Everything else belongs to JK Rowling, who I am not, although I wish I were.

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Crunchy Lemon Muffins

"Jamesiekins! I'm hungry!" yelled Sirius, who was currently at the top of a tree, spying on the Hag-like being next door.

"Hi, Hungry, I'm Peter." Peter said, thinking he was incredibly witty and cool, which he was most definitely not. He was scum, and should have left to go drown himself. But he stayed, and we, the loyal HP fans, will just have to grin, bear it, and write all sorts of strange fics about a happier world where he doesn't exist.

"Go get something to eat, genius," grinned Remus, who had been chatting to Hag-thing about the pros and cons of wearing pointy hats. Somehow he had managed to charm her chimney into a strange smoking cabbage. "As I was saying, I think they should be more cabbage — I mean curvy. *coughhehehehehecough* I would just prefer it more if the smoke — I mean shape — was a whole lot less... pointy, I guess."

"Chimney!" yelled Sirius, "Whoops, I mean, _Jimminy! _I'm still hungry!" 

There was a silence, in which Peter attempted to make some amusing faces, but failed horribly and only managed to make everyone hate him more.

"James! James? JAMES!?!?!?!?!" 

"_WHAT???_" shouted the afore-mentioned kick-ass future father of The Boy Who Lived out of his third storey bedroom window. 

"I told you," said Sirius very patiently, "I'm hungry."

"So get something to eat, smart one. I'm busy."

"Reeeeeeeally?" asked Sirius, who was also one kick-ass person. "Busy doing _what?_"

"Writing a love letter!" Remus crowed, who had suddenly sprinted into the Potter's mansion, ran through the Dining Room, dashed up two staircases, darted down a hallway, loped into James's room, snatched the letter, skimmed through it, and laughed his ass off — Did I mention Remus kicks ass? — "_Lily, my love, my heart, my flower, my honey-bun, my dear, my soul, my life, my beloved, my precious, my treasure, my cherished, my chocolate-coated marshmallow, my reason for existence, I think you are one foxy lady. You rock my socks, except I'm not wearing any, so you rock my feet. I want to kidnap you and take you up into a secret hut in the forest, where we can 'accidentally' lose our clothes and wearing bearskins and leaves instead. Every time I see you I want to handcuff myself to your bed and let you ravish me, over and over again—_"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT IT SAYS!!!" roared a furiously scarlet Jimmy-poo.

"Yeah, that's what _you_ say." smirked Peter, who had just arrived, puffing and panting over the long climb up the stairs. He most certainly does not kick ass.

"Yes, it is what _I_ say." said James, crushing all of Peter's hopes of being accepted. We should feel some pity for him — Nah, let's just throw rocks.

"Hmmm," said Sirius, grinning evilly. "What on Earth should we do?"

"Hmmm," said Remus, grinning just as evilly "Just what _should _we do, Sirius? That's a toughie."

"Maybe we should just give James his letter back," suggested Peter.

Every one ignored him and went about planning James's big Humiliation. With a capital, even.

"Wait, Sirius, wait..." James sighed resignedly. "I'll help you make whatever you want to eat, just don't show anyone the letter. Even though it doesn't say what Remus read out."

"Is that good enough, Remus?" What a dastardly wicked boy Sirius was, with tricky questions and all. How we love him. 333

"Hmmm," Remus sniggered, "I think... not."

"Please, guys, I'll help you make anything! I'll... make you icecreams! Waffles! Pancakes! Muffins!"

"Oooooh! Muffins! That's a deal, Jimbo! You make us muffins and we'll show no one your letter!" Siruis felt that muffins were what made the world turn. He was so absolutely right.

They hurried down the stairs into the kitchen. It was painted a nice sunny lemon yellow, which matched the types of muffins they had no idea they would make — Crunchy Lemon Muffins. They taste really, really good.

Sirius sat on a stool by the bench and looked at James expectantly. 

"Well?" he asked.

James grumbled summoned a small recipe book.

"Sirius, put down the spoon. You might take someone's eye out." At Remus's teacher-like words Sirius reluctantly put the wooden spoon.

James flipped a couple of pages and asked Sirius what kind of muffin he wanted.

"Hmmmm... Something without chocolate? I'm a little anti-choc after last night's binge."

"Blueberry? Carrot and walnut? Banana and blueberry? Spicy pineapple? Spiced apple? Sweet spicy pumpkin? Double chocolate? Oh, no, you don't want chocolate. Fruit salad? Orange and honey? Crunchy lemon? Ginger cardamon? Apricot and walnut? Strawberry cream cheese? Raspberry? Apricot surprise? Rum and raisin? Cranberry and Orange? Christmas mincemeat?"

"Hmmm, maybe. No. No. Pineapples? I think not. No. Pumpkin? I'll just stick with the juice, thanks. No chocolate. Fruit salad... It would be all chunky, wouldn't it? I don't like honey. Lemon... Sounds alright. What's a cardamon? Sounds like some sorts of disease. Ahhhhh! Don't touch me, I've got cardamon! I think not. Nuts and fruit don't mix! If it has cheese and berries in it, I'm not touching it. Raspberry... yeah, that could work. Hehehe... Apricot 'surprise', eh? Nah, dont think so. Raisins... no. Don't cranberries have fuzz on the outside? MINCE??? NO WAY!!!"

"What, so that leaves...Blueberry, lemon, and raspberry. I've never tried a lemon muffin before." Remus said. 

"Raspberry it is!" yelled Peter.

"No, let's do lemon." said Sirius, grinding Peter's heart beneath his heel. Laugh evilly with me, everyone. Heheheheh.

James turned to the right page and read the recipe out. 

_2 cups of self-raising flour_

¾ cup of sugar

75 grams of butter

1 cup of milk

1 egg

grated rind of one large or two small lemons

juice of one large or two small lemons

¼ cup of sugar

Measure the flour and sugar in a large bowl and toss to mix.

Remus measured the flour, while Sirius took care of the sugar. When he thought no-one was looking, he added an extra ¼ cup.

_Melt the butter, add the milk, egg and lemon rind and beat well with a fork to combine._

James handed Remus and Peter a lemon each and Remus did some sort of tricky spell to make the rind rain into the bowl like snow. 

"Fluffarindica!" yelled Peter, trying to imitate him. Much to the surprise of every Peter-hater in the entire world, it worked. 

_Add the liquids to the dry ingredients and combine only until the dry ingredients have been lightly dampened but not thoroughly mixed._

"Ooooooh! Can I mix? Please???"

"Sirius, I know that these are your muffins, but there is a subtle art to muffin mixture mixing. I'm sure you would appreciate it a whole lot more if James did the mixing, okay?" Sigh. Isn't Remus just so sensible you just want to hug him? I know I do.

_Divide the mixture evenly between 12 medium-sized muffin pans that have been well coated with Chef Mate non-stick spray. Bake at 200 C for 10 minutes. Stir together the lemon juice and sugar without dissolving the sugar, and spoon this over the hot muffins as soon as they are removed from the oven._

"Wooo, Chef Mate! You're _my_ mate. I'm a _chef_."

"Sirius, James is the one making the muffins. You've done pretty much nil."

"Eh, shut your face, Pete. You know what would be cool? If there was muffin mixture, but in a _can._ And you just spray it right into the muffin tray and cook it! Cooooooool!"

Suddenly hiding your grin behind your hand became very fashionable. James popped the muffin tray into the oven, and amazingly there already were perfectly golden brown, nicely risen muffins sitting innocently in a dish right next to the tray he had just put in. James gave a proud grin.

"Here are some I prepared earlier. Now, Remus, would you be a dear and spoon the lemon juice and sugar over them?"

Remus shot a very confused look at the camera crew that had suddenly appeared, filming a flawless view of the top of the Potter's perfect kitchen bench, and began to dollop the mixture on top.

Peter was getting rather hungry. His stomach was growling like a huge, ferocious Grim, and the muffins were sitting so enticingly on the wire cooling racknext to him. Peter pushed up his sleeves, and shouted suddenly, "OMIGODLUKATHATGIANHAIRYSLUGONTHAWINDERSILL!" 

While they were all looking for the giant slug, Peter stole a few muffins and hid them in the hood of his cloak.

"I didn't see a giant slug. Did you, Remus?  
"All I saw was that your paint is beginning to peel. James, maybe you should do something about that."

"Yeah, I – Peter, what's that on your arm?"

Peter looked down at his left arm.

"Oh, er… It's just… um, Permanent marker! Yeah, it's, ah…the Anti-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Sign! Mmmmhmmm, no way am _I_ a Death Eater! I love Dumbledore! He's my, erm... lover! No! I mean... he's my... rolemodel! Yeah!"

Sirius coughed.

"If you say so..." Remus looked at him oddly, his brows furrowed.

In the end, they got they muffins off Peter, threw him into a pile of burning tyres, and cackled hysterically, singing that song that goes "Burn, baby, burn, disco inferno," or something like that. The Hag moved somewhere else, after being traumatised by the cabbage and never smoked again, which is good, because smoking is especially hard on hag lungs.

Everything went pretty much downhill from there for the four teenagers (Well, except the part where James got married, and that must have been pretty cool), and you can read about the sadness in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which is very very good but makes you want to cry. 

And so, as I seem to have some weird inexplicable tendency to end with depressing notes, I'm going to stop now. Have a nice life, don't forget to review, and COLIN FIRTH IS COOL.


End file.
